


starfield

by bruised_fruit



Series: headcanon compliant [4]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Pre-ship, Self-Esteem Issues, Stolen Century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-29 00:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21401080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruised_fruit/pseuds/bruised_fruit
Summary: This cycle’s evening sky was a rich navy and thick with stars. /// It was lovely, meticulously rendered and beautiful, just as expected from her but awe-inspiring nonetheless.
Relationships: Davenport & The Director | Lucretia
Series: headcanon compliant [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653871
Kudos: 10





	starfield

**Author's Note:**

> title referencing both the astronomical term and the vija celmins "starfield." this fic was inspired by her night sky series

It was dark out, and the only light reaching the two of them was coming from the innards of the ship while Davenport and Lucretia sat on its deck, sharing a rare quiet moment. He was stargazing, and she was fastidiously drawing in one of her journals. He’d been looking for alone time, but it was nice to be with one of the crew. With a friend. It wasn’t a distraction. The night was quiet aside from the sound of her pencil. 

This cycle’s evening sky was a rich navy and thick with stars. Assuming he flew them to safety, this world was saved; they'd recovered the Light soon after it fell. But the crew was still in the small window of clinging to the ship, hesitant about building homes for themselves when they didn’t know the plane to be hospitable. This part of the year was almost good in his eyes, but how could it not be? After six years, the ship was one of the only constants in his life. And being with the crew, of course. This period was a reprieve of sorts from their never-ending struggle. 

Lucretia interrupted his thoughts. “Captain,” she said, her voice quiet, “I want to show you something.”

She passed over her journal, and he took it from her, holding it gingerly when he noticed that the page was nearly coated in graphite. He blinked.

“It’s the sky,” he said dumbly. He held it up and looked up at the sky above; it was a perfect replica. And it was lovely, meticulously rendered and beautiful, just as expected from her but awe-inspiring nonetheless. Even after their handful of years together, this wasn’t the kind of thing he was accustomed to putting into words for her, but he wanted to. 

“I thought you might like it. You do like it?” 

“I love it, Lucretia. This is wonderful.” He set the journal back down and smiled at her. 

“Thank you, sir,” she said. She bit her lower lip, and he watched her fidget before she continued, more softly than before, “I, um-- I’m trying to be useful. I know you probably wish you had an extra Lup or Magnus instead of me.” Davenport balked, and she noticed, her expression shifting. “That was a stupid thing to say, I’m sorry…”

She wrapped her arms around her knees, tilting her head away from him, looking off into the dark of the night. Sometimes he forgot how young she was, how human… And she had so much worth. Not just as his chronicler, though she had such skill, and she did her job with more dedication and care than anyone on the crew. She was also kind and so bright, with a wicked sense of humor when she was comfortable enough to let it out. A part of him had started to rely on her presence through all this, reassured by her solidity and gentle benevolence. 

“Do you really feel that way?” he asked, clumsily searching for a way to console her. Her eyes squeezed shut, and Davenport’s stomach twisted with anxiety. He couldn’t handle Lucretia crying, Lucretia in need of comfort—he’d never expected to have to be a captain who would need to comfort his crew through so much. (It was impossible. What comfort could they find in a life like this? He was just as lost and powerless as her, at the end of the day.)

“I...” He paused, carefully choosing his words. “I’m lucky to have someone like you on my crew, Lucretia. You’re valuable, and what you do is— you never cease to amaze me. I hope you know that.” She inhaled sharply, as if stifling a sob, and she glanced over at him. 

“Thank you.” 

Then she looked to her lap, her face flushed, and he handed her the journal. She took it, closing it quickly. 

Davenport was unsure of what to say. She still looked distraught, and he didn’t know how to defuse the situation.

“It’s true,” he said, and he offered her a small smile.

He watched her grip on the journal tighten, and she seemed to collect herself for a moment. The worst was over, though he’d hardly done anything to soothe her. A small and guilty part of him was grateful she hadn’t cried in front of him. 

“Well, um. I should be heading in,” she said, and she stood, looking up to the sky one more time. “I’m glad we saved this one. It really is beautiful here.”

He looked up too. “It is. I’m impressed you captured it so well.” 

A hesitant smile found its way onto her face. “Thank you,” she said. 

The mood had shifted, at least. 

“You’re awfully thankful tonight.”

“I guess so.” She met his eye one last time, and she was still smiling as she turned toward the body of the ship, like a light rekindled, or the new moon, only a little nudge needed to push her back into brilliance. “Have a nice night, Captain.”

“You too, Lucretia,” he said warmly. He watched her walk inside, then looked back up at the stars, a mirror image of her art. 

**Author's Note:**

> roughed out a comic version of this over a year ago, so if you ever see something similar to this floating around in a graphic format, it might be me :-)


End file.
